


Offerings

by Bill_Longbow



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, But not explicit, M/M, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Panic Attacks, Tentacles, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 21:03:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11745147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bill_Longbow/pseuds/Bill_Longbow
Summary: After escaping the clutches of Hydra Bucky hides as far away as he can. But he didn't count on a visit by the natives.





	Offerings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MassiveSpaceWren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MassiveSpaceWren/gifts).



> Many thanks to the wonderful Shi-Toyu for betaing and cheerleading and special thanks to MassiveSpaceWren who was the inspiration for this fic!
> 
> Comments are always welcome, hope you enjoy!

Bucky awoke to the sound of drums in the distance. This wasn't unusual. Sometimes raider ships would pass by, beating the drums to strike fear in all those who heard. What was unusual, though, was that the sound was steadily coming closer.

He glanced outside. It was still dark, a few hours till sunrise he guessed. Curiosity piqued, he scrambled out of his bedding and towards the cave entrance. If he squinted he could make out torches in the distance, still very far away. The sound must have carried over the water's surface.

The night was eerily quiet, besides the drums no other sounds could be heard. Not the usual cries of nocturnal birds and critters, deep in the undergrowth. Not the soft splashing of crocodiles diving in the creek. Not even the fluttering of moths. No whine of mosquitoes.

The silence tugged at something. A vague image of a similar night skirted the edge of his mind, but the memory faded before he could grasp it.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he decided now was as good a time to hunt as any. Whatever was coming would do so, whether he was hungry or not. Might as well make use of the dark to catch some rare fish.

He grabbed his tools and satchel and made his way to the beach, down a steep winding path, not much more than an animal trail.

The thing he liked about this cave was that it was so remote. Only if you knew about it could you spot it on the cliff's edge. That, and the freshwater basin farther in the back. Ever since Hydra’s experiments he needed to be able to submerge himself.

Bucky hated what they did to him with a passion. Somehow they managed to merge his with cephalopod DNA in a sick attempt to recreate him in their symbol’s image. It left him with a totally random set of properties.

Some came in handy, especially on the run, like improved hearing and eyesight. But he despised these appendages on his lower body, where his legs used to be.

He slid into the water and waited for the tentacles to change colour as he went to hunt. He got a lucky shot at a large catfish and he found a nice stash of clams.

When he was back at his cave he looked out over the water, the torches were a lot closer now. He decided against making a fire, lest he was spotted. So he cleaned the fish as best he could in the dark and stored it in the back. The clams he ate raw while he watched.

He counted 5 small canoes, surrounding a large one, slowly but surely coming towards him. In the large boat he could make out a standing figure making elaborate hand gestures. They seemed to be directed at a smaller figure, sitting on his knees.

As the canoes slid closer through the calm water he heard chanting accompanying the drums.

The standing figure was wearing a red and gold loincloth, reaching to his knees. His arms and shoulders were decorated with colourful beads and feathers, nearly obscuring what seemed to be a full body tattoo. On his head he wore a, was that the head of a crocodile?

Bucky suppressed a shudder and directed his attention to the kneeling figure. He seemed smaller than the other men, who were obviously warriors. While the warriors were large, muscles bulging as they guided the paddles and played the drums, the kneeling figure seemed almost fragile.

The other men wore a simple red loincloth and had tattoos in varying degrees of complexity. Bucky saw they were geometric patterns, parallel lines and dots, covering their bodies and faces. The smaller man (boy?) didn't have any tattoos that he could see, but he could only make out his back and the crown of his head.

Closer and closer they came and the chanting became fevered, the rhythm faster, making Bucky itch to move. The music reached a peak when the boats arrived at the rocky peninsula underneath his cave and suddenly all was quiet, the only sound the waves lapping against the boats.

At a shout from the leader (medicine man?) the drums started again, a slow rhythm, while two oarsmen stood and pulled the kneeling man, young but not a boy, with them. The leader guided them unto the rocks while two other men picked up a large piece of wood and a hammer.

From the shadows, Bucky continued to watch the scene below. How could he not? The young man was mesmerising, even as he stood with his eyes closed and shoulders hunched, tension evident in every line of his body.

He wore a long skirt consisting of two pieces of almost sheer golden fabric. They were held together with string, leaving his hips and the side of his legs bare. On his upper arms and around his neck he wore thick bands of gold. These were connected by an intricate pattern of fine golden chains, covering his upper torso. His wrists were bound before him by another pair of golden bracelets and a thick chain in between.

The men proceeded to hammer the wooden post into a crack in the rocks. Each hammer blow was accompanied by the drums. When the post was secure, they tied the young man's arms to it. The chanting picked up again and the music quickened to a maddening rhythm as the four warriors climbed back in the boat.

The young man opened his eyes and straightened his back, head held high. Then, at a gesture by the leader, the exact moment the sun peeked above the horizon, the music stopped. The leader spoke quiet words to the young man, kissed his forehead, and climbed back in the large canoe. They rowed away in silence without looking back.

Bucky had no idea what he had just witnessed. He sat back as another memory tried to claw it's way upward. There was another small young man? But, unlike the man below, with fair skin and hair like spun gold. No, it was the chin jutting out, screaming defiance in a hopeless situation, that was familiar. Bucky tried to chase the memory but it, too, stayed just out of reach.

His memory of before was spotty at best, and got worse when he was emotional. The scene below had rocked him to the core.

He dared another glance over the edge. The man's shoulders had sagged as the men in the canoes were barely visible anymore. He could hear him whimper and it gave Bucky goosebumps.

What was supposed to happen now? The man was high enough on the rock that he wouldn't drown with the incoming tide, but already the sun was making itself known and in a few hours the rock would become unbearably hot. Did they leave him with water?

Bucky chanced another look, but the man must have caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and for a moment he seemed to look straight at him. Then the man sagged even more and tried to see if the chain allowed him to sit.

Bucky used the opportunity to go back to his pool. He was trembling all over. He couldn't just leave the man to his fate, but he also couldn't let himself be seen. He had escaped as far as he could go, to a place that couldn't be more different than with Hydra.

He shuddered as memories of ice and pain and harsh voices and more pain and more cold washed over him unbidden.

He forced these down as he grounded himself with the sweet smell of algae, the soft, worn rock of the basin and the sounds of the jungle below. He was safe and he would stay safe.

His thoughts strayed back to the man. Maybe if he could take a closer look he’d be able to see if he could do anything without giving himself away?

Mind made up, he took his satchel and filled it with some dried fruit and a container with fresh water. Maybe he could push these on the rocks without being seen.

He took the long way down, through a small opening to the side of the cave, which should have been too small for someone his size, but he squeezed through. His path took him through the woods for a bit, and he snapped off a large leaf. The man could use some shade as well.

When he came to the water's edge, he made himself as small as he could and floated under the leaf towards the rock. Luckily the man had closed his eyes again.

Bucky took a moment to observe him. Up close he was even more beautiful. All tan skin and lean muscles, glossy black hair. He had managed to sit down, but he looked anything but comfortable. His arms were at an awkward angle upwards, head resting on his knees.

As silently as he could, he slid the leaf with his offerings onto the rock. The water was higher now so he could reach without getting out of the water. He managed to push the leaf near the man and very carefully backed away. He swam around the bend and watched.

It took a while, but when the man noticed the leaf he yelped. Wide eyes searched around and Bucky ducked under water to be safe. Eventually the man gave up his vigilance, seeing nothing but water around him. He studied the contents of the leaf; then looked at his bound hands.

Bucky would have kicked himself if he still could. Of course the man wouldn't be able to use any of the things he brought! He wrung his hands in anguish.

But then the man very carefully picked up the container with both of his feet and brought it to his hands. It almost slipped a couple of times but he made it and Bucky almost whooped with delight. Almost. He slipped deeper into the water.

After some fumbling, the man managed to open the container. He sniffed, shrugged and downed the contents in one go. He then tried to do the same with the food, but the berries were too small. He tried to scoop some in the container, but the ground was uneven and the container kept slipping. In a fit of frustration he kicked the container in the water.

Bucky kept an eye out for it. Making a watertight container was difficult and time consuming. He looked back to the man who had managed to pick up the leaf and was stuffing the stem in between the shackles on the post so he could sit under it. Bucky had made sure the leaf was big enough to cover him whole. He left the man to it and slipped under water, picking up the container on his way home.

Back in the cave, Bucky paced up and down while he fretted. The man wouldn't die of heat stroke right away, but he still couldn't leave him like this. He knew he had to go down and untie the man himself.

He shuddered at the thought. Bucky had made sure to remain unseen ever since his escape, what if this was an elaborate ploy to get him back? He cringed. He couldn't go back, he wouldn't! But leaving the man below made him no better than Hydra. He couldn't live with himself in the knowledge he just stood by. Bright blue eyes seemed to look at him knowingly, hands on bony hips.

Sighing, he made a fire and cooked his fish, eating half and wrapping the rest in a leaf. He filled and resealed the container, and waited for dusk to set before going out again.

When he came in sight of the rock he nearly fled but he squared his shoulders and carefully made his way on land. The man looked up at the first sound. He scrambled to his feet, eyes wide in horror, looking Bucky up and down.

Bucky looked down at himself in shame. He didn't used to be like this. He was, he was... not this. He had shards of memories of before. Of rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes, of music and dancing, of the taste of cheap wine on someone else's lips.

He shook his head and looked back at the man through the curtain of his hair. The man had backed away as far as the chain would let him.

Very slowly Bucky opened his pack and showed the man the container. He held it out to him, but the man tried to back away even further. He yelled something at him in a language Bucky didn't understand. He set the container down and pulled out the other contents of the bag, the fish and one sharp and one large rock. Showing the bag was empty he put that down too, and looked at the man again.

He was still scared, but now he also looked curious. Taking that as a win, Bucky picked up the stones and mimed cutting him loose. The man shook his head adamantly. Bucky shrugged and backed away a little. The man seemed to ask him something. Bucky shrugged again and hoped it conveyed he didn't understand the words.

The man observed Bucky for a while and he seemed to reach a decision. He shuffled a little closer and gestured at himself. He said something that sounded like “oni”. He pointed and said it again. Tony?

Bucky tried to clear his throat, he couldn't remember the last time he used his voice. He pointed at himself and croaked, “Bucky”.

This elicited rapid fire speech and the man, Tony, nearly fell trying to gesticulate wildly while still being tied to the pole.

Bucky picked up the rocks again and raised a questioning eyebrow. The man fell silent and gave a tiny nod.

Bucky approached him slowly, then eyed the bracelets and chain. Tony helpfully twisted his wrists and Bucky saw he could undo the bracelets without damaging them.

He saw Tony try not to flinch when he reached for him. Taking a deep breath, Bucky undid both clasps at once, one with his human hands and the other with two tentacles. Once Tony was free they both quickly backed up, Tony sitting down heavily and massaging his hands.

Bucky wished he could sit down as well. Now that he had done it, he had saved the mysterious man, he started to shake violently.

What had he done? He was out in the open, anyone could see him here. He had to get away! He needed to flee again! He could go farther into the cave, hide away in the farthest reaches of the mountain. But what if they had already found his cave? He would be trapped.

He closed his eyes. They were coming for him. He was cold, so cold, so cold it hurt. They were coming for him. He tried to make himself as small as possible, because it hurt, it still hurt. They would tie him down and poke him and cut him and inject him and it hurt, it hurt, it hurt. He screamed until his voice gave away and they laughed and barked orders and he heard others like him scream. It hurt, oh god it hurt, but someone sang.

Someone sang? Someone, a man, sung a slow song. He didn't understand the words but it was a song about longing, about love and pain intertwined so you couldn't distinguish one from the other. And as he listened to the song the screams and the pain and the cold slowly ebbed away and only bone deep exhaustion remained.

He didn't want to open his eyes. He wanted to lay here, with the warm ocean water lapping at his tentacles and let the voice wash over him. But the fear of being discovered tugged at him again. He had to make a plan. He had to find out why they left the man, Tony, on his doorstep. He had to find out what they knew about him and who 'they' were.

But first he had to hide, so he disentangled himself and stood up. He hissed at a sharp pain on his back. Apparently he cut himself on the rocks while thrashing around. He felt the blood trickling down and it hurt, it hurt, it hurt.

He jolted when something touched his arm. He didn't remember bending down and cradling his head. Tony yelped and withdrew his hand, but didn't move farther away. For a while they observed each other. Tony's large brown eyes seemed warm with, sadness? Understanding?

The smaller man pointed at his back and then gestured at Bucky, raising his eyebrows. Seeking permission? Bucky didn't want to turn his back on the man, but he couldn't see for himself and if push came to shove he could easily overwhelm Tony, he thought.

He nodded almost imperceptibly. At that, Tony seemed to steel himself and slowly approached him, taking care not to step on the tentacles. Bucky felt him remove something from the wound and he ground his teeth.

Tony came back in view and started talking, miming something and pointing at the fish? He must be starving! Quickly Bucky reached for the container and the leaf and handed them over, backing up to give him some space.

Tony drank the water and unwrapped the fish but hesitated, prompting Bucky to gesture eating. Tony shook his head, pointed at the leaf, Bucky's back and the jungle on the island proper.

Sure, the leaf came from the jungle. He pointed and said, “leaf”. This clearly excited Tony who started to talk again in that strange way of his, randomly pointing at Bucky and the leaf. But then his stomach protested loudly so Bucky gestured him to eat again and said, “eat”. Tony rolled his eyes at that. But at least he ate the damn fish.

Afterwards, he stood and made to walk away but Bucky held onto his arm. Where was he going? Tony went rigid and Bucky looked down. He had grabbed Tony with one of his tentacles.

He quickly let go and looked at the ground, whispering, “sorry”. Interacting with a human made him forget he was a freak. He turned to slip into the water. Maybe Tony could sleep in the jungle and then they wouldn't have to interact with each other. Then after some sleep Bucky would leave this island in search of something even more remote.

But this time it was Tony who got a hold of his (human) arm and tugged him along. Bucky hesitated but Tony was surprisingly strong and pulled Bucky after him into the jungle.

Tony let go of his arm once they walked (slithered Bucky reminded himself. He didn't walk, he slithered) between the large trees.

He started talking, pointing at things and making gestures, sometimes looking at Bucky who nodded along, but most of the time he seemed just happy to hear himself. Bucky didn't think he'd ever met anyone who talked as fast as Tony. Although he had no idea what Tony talked about, it was nice to listen, nice to pretend.

Bucky tried to remember if he used to hike. There were some flashes of silently walking with a group of men?

He nearly bumped into Tony who had picked some leaves and turned to Bucky, smiling in triumph. He crushed the leaves with his fingers and mimed putting it on the wound. Bucky dutiful turned around and tried to recapture the memory.

He missed that Tony stopped talking until he stood before him again, eyes narrowed in suspicion. He pointed emphatically at Bucky's back. Bucky raised his eyebrows. What was the problem? Tony pointed again with more force, frowning as he did, and started a rant with a lot of elaborate gestures. Bucky just shrugged. This prompted another passionate rant accompanied by a pantomime of cutting? And what? Tears? Ah, he knew that one, dying. But then a happy walk? And more pointing at him.

Bucky was at a loss. The wound probably was scabbed over by now, and Tony seemed upset about this? He didn't know what he could say in return. He had always healed fast, hadn't he?

Tony pondered for a moment, tapping his lips and then seemed to reach a decision because he threw away the leaves and started to return the way they came. He looked back at Bucky, hands on his hips and made an impatient gesture for him to follow.

Bucky didn't know what to do, he hadn't thought beyond untying Tony. He didn't like the idea of him roaming around the island by himself, but Bucky ached to get back to his cave and the sweetwater there. He absolutely did not want to share his safe space. Though he really needed to rest, his brain felt muddled after all the excitement and the little sleep he had last night.

Tony threw up his arms in exasperation and walked away. Bucky had no choice but to follow, this was the fastest way to his cave anyway.

When he reached Tony, he saw he had disassembled the bracelets still hanging on the chain. What seemed to be a solid band of gold really consisted of multiple layers of metal, some of which Tony was bending into shape around the wooden post. He did the same with his upper arm bracelets, leaving the fine chains to hang free from his neck.

Bucky was fascinated with the work. Tony's hands were deft and strong as he manipulated the metal to his will. All the metal pieces slotted seamlessly together into a knife and sheath. Huh, sweet!

Tony shone with pride and he tapped his chest. He made it himself? Bucky smiled and Tony hung the knife on the string of his skirt, collecting the other pieces in Bucky's satchel. Then he mimed "sleep, where?"

Bucky hesitated. He pointed at Tony and the jungle, then at himself and the cliff. Tony looked at him oddly. He looked hurt? He jutted out his chin and sat down, waving Bucky goodbye and turning his back on him.

With his arms around his knees, he looked small and lost and Bucky immediately felt bad. Poor guy was left to a certain death not even 24 hours ago.

But hold on, what if he was left here as punishment? How come he hadn't thought of this before? What if Tony had committed a terrible crime? He may look small and harmless but he had just proven to be full of surprises, he now had a knife. And Bucky had pointed out his cave to him, stupid, stupid!

What should he do? He was too tired to safely leave in search of another hideout and he needed to get to fresh water. If they camped near the creek they would be crocodile snacks. Maybe if he took Tony to his cave he could take away the knife while he slept? He wouldn't be able to rest, but he would feel a lot safer if he had disarmed the potential psychopath.

Feeling like he really had no other choice he went over to tap Tony gently on the shoulder, and gestured for him to come with. Tony still looked hurt and he looked like he wanted to refuse, but Bucky tried to pull him up and Tony gave in.

They made their way through the jungle again, now in silence. The silence felt heavy without Tony's chatter and Bucky felt more tense with every passing second.This whole business broke down his carefully constructed defenses and it felt like the cold could descend on him at any time. At least Tony had proven to be a good distraction.

Bucky had gone a long time without any human contact, torture didn't count. He honestly couldn't remember when he had last talked with someone.

So, Bucky cleared his throat, pointed and said “flower”. He looked back at Tony and repeated. Tony just shrugged. Not giving up easily he pointed at a tree. “Tree”. This time Tony repeated it, adding something in his own language. Tony pointed at another tree and said something different. But to Bucky it was a tree, and he said so.

Tony then seemed to have fun pointing at random vegetation which Bucky all dutiful called tree. Or plant. Or hey, a vine! When they reached the edge of the cliff the tension between them was gone.

Bucky stared at the sheer rock, thinking how Tony could climb up without suckers to keep him from falling. Tony just studied the wall as he tied the skirt around his waist, did a run and jump and up he went.

Bucky had thought the man beautiful before, but this was something else. His fingers finding crevices in the rock without hesitation, muscles in his back, arms and legs working in tandem, almost without effort. His skin shone silver in the moonlight, and with the golden chains still around his neck he looked like something from a fairy tale.

A few moments in, Bucky was scared out of his reverie when Tony slipped and he dangled on one hand. Bucky quickly scrambled upwards to catch him, but Tony recovered himself and when Bucky reached him he saw he was grinning. "What?! I didn't save your punk ass so you can fall to your death!" Bucky scolded him. But Tony's eyes shone with mischief and he winked before moving on.

They reached the cave without further incident, Bucky staying close just in case, muttering about stupid punks under his breath.

Once inside, Bucky eased himself into the water with a contented sigh. He allowed himself to soak a little and he nearly drifted off when Tony started to sing. Shaking the drowsiness off Bucky built the fire and offered Tony some water and fruit. They ate in companionable silence.

After a while, Tony pointed at the shadows the fire threw against the wall, then at Bucky and mimed something big? A big monster? He mimed canoeing and then looking. He pointed at Bucky again and at the shadows and played a big monster.

He was grinning again as realization hit Bucky. The natives saw his shadow and thought he was a huge scary monster? He didn't know how to feel about that, but Tony wasn't done yet. He pointed at Bucky again and then down, at the rocky outcrop Tony was left. He curled up in a ball and yelled, then pointed at Bucky. He mimed listening and then did the whole canoeing monster act again.

Bucky was horrified. He had no idea he could be heard so far away, what if these natives weren't the only ones? How ironic it would be if his nightmares were what led those monsters back to him?

Tony looked at him in understanding. He then pulled away his necklace, revealing a huge scar at the centre of his chest. What he mimed then was too complicated to understand, but it was something about taking, being taken? Him refusing and being stabbed and dead? Tony pointed over the ocean, at himself and then at Bucky, making a smiling face. He was supposed to make Bucky happy?

"You dead me happy?" Bucky gestured. Tony shrugged and nodded. This was a lot to take in. It could still be a trap, but it didn't feel like it. "I'm not gonna kill ya", Bucky said and mimed. "Are you gonna kill me?" Tony pretended to think about it and then laughed, shaking his head.

After a huge yawn, Bucky helped him fashion a bed of sorts near the fire and he was softly snoring in no time. After retreating to his water Bucky lay awake staring at Tony, but eventually he, too, fell asleep.

He awoke to the sensation of not being dead, which he counted as a win. He listened closely but he didn't hear anything other than the usual. Tony was sitting on the edge of the cave, legs dangling free. When he heard Bucky, he shuffled back in, almost hesitant.

Now that the whole saving business was over, and neither seemed interested in killing the other, Bucky didn't know how to behave. Last night he had thought about leaving, but he didn't think it likely Hydra already knew where he was. They would've come and collected him already. So staying put was as safe as leaving, he figured. But he didn't know what to do with Tony.

At that moment, hesitance gone, Tony gestured “me” and “here”? He looked like he didn't care and would only stay to humour Bucky, with his pearly white grin, staring Bucky straight in the eye. But his hand strayed to the scars on his chest and Bucky thought how rejected he looked last night.

Sure, Bucky shrugged, instinctively not making a big deal out of it.

And that was that. Tony stayed and they gradually developed some kind of routine together. That first morning was a fluke because Tony rarely got up before well past dawn. Bucky used the early morning to hunt or fish and when he came back Tony had rekindled the fire and brewed his coffee-like beverage. Bucky remembered liking coffee, but this stuff was so vile he didn't taste anything else for three days straight after trying it.

After breakfast they usually set out together exploring the island. Tony tried to teach him about the plants and their various uses, beginning with all the edible ones. He also used him as a glorified mule, giving him all kinds of materials to carry back to the cave. There, he had drawn a huge map on the wall that he would add on to, according to the day's findings.

In the afternoon, Bucky would set out by himself, exploring the cavern system and Tony would tinker. After researching the airflow, Tony moved the fire pit deeper into the cave, so it wouldn't be as visible. He upgraded their bedding, fashioned a chair for himself and a sort of chaise longue for Bucky. He built a cabinet for their foodstuffs and showed Bucky how to better store what they gathered. He upgraded Bucky's spears and built them both bow and arrows.

And at night they talked. At first they played the world's weirdest game of charades, but Tony was an exceptionally quick learner and soon they could actually speak with each other.

Tony told him about how he always was an outlier in a society ruled by the strongest. He made himself useful by making weapons and he was tolerated. But he was kidnapped by a rival tribe, and refused to build them weapons as well. They stabbed him through the chest and left him near his village.

His tribesmen found him, but he should have died. That he survived made them very suspicious of him, and rumours of dark magic began to spread. So when fishermen heard these horrifying screams and saw this huge monster dance around the cave, Tony was quickly blamed and volunteered as an offering. He did have two friends who tried to stop this, but short of being sacrificed themselves there was little they could do.

Bucky, for his part, gradually recovered more and more of his memories. He told Tony about his mother and sisters, about a scrawny little boy whom he always had to save from a fight, about working and dancing, about going to war.

Tony was fascinated with western civilisation. So, Bucky told him about newspapers and movies, about telephones, refrigerators and cars, about electricity and buildings as high as the clouds, about more people than he could count living near each other, about brand new inventions like duct tape and penicillin.

They never spoke about being captured or the torture they endured. Tony was plagued by nightmares just like Bucky, but being near someone helped and the times one or the other woke up screaming grew less and less.

Bucky grew to love Tony's wit and sharp humour, his large brown eyes and shy smile, his morning temper and that awful drink, his nimble fingers and beautiful voice. For the first time since Bucky woke up to his new body, life was good.


End file.
